Pigeons in the Park
by 4luv4evr428
Summary: Preoccupations with work and having a baby in the house put a strain on the Ricardos.


I.

Lucy watched her husband from where she stood washing dishes in the kitchen. He sat cross-legged on the floor, writing busily on music paper that was scattered across the coffee table. Their 10-month-old son gripped the side of the table as he moved steadily around it.

She glanced up frequently to keep her eyes on him, too, since she felt that Ricky wasn't paying much attention. When the baby curiously grabbed at the paper that Ricky was writing on, he looked up quickly as the sheet ripped between them. "Aw, Ricky," he scowled. "Lucy, can you please take the baby?"

Lucy walked out to the living room and picked little Ricky up. "He's just interested in what you're doing, Ricky. If you don't want him to touch it, why is it in a place where he can grab it?"

"This is where I'm comfortable, I been writin' like this for years." Ricky turned back to his music.

Lucy frowned. "Well, it's a little hard to explain that to him, dear." She smiled at the boy, who cooed in her arms and inspected the piece of paper that was still in his grip. She sat with him in the armchair nearby. "Why don't you leave that alone for a little while. He wants some of your attention." She turned to the baby and spoke in a whisper. "And you're not the only one…"

Ricky spoke absently and without looking up at her. "Honey, I'm supposed to be recordin' the next record in a week and I dun't have it ready."

She bounded the baby in her lap. "You must have a hundred songs hanging around that you haven't recorded…"

He scratched out a line of his writing. "It needs to be new and I'm in a slump, everythin's terrible…"

Lucy stood up and carried the baby to the bedroom. Ricky didn't take notice of them leaving and she knew that she'd get nowhere talking to him while he was so focused. She sat little Ricky on the changing table in his room and started to dress him in outdoor clothes. "Let's go to the park, darling. It's sunny and not too cold yet…"

The small child looked around the room as she maneuvered his arms and legs through pants and a shirt. "Da…"

Lucy smiled. It was one of the only clear things little Ricky said that wasn't pure baby sounds and he said it often. "When are you going to say 'ma,'" she joked.

"Da!" Little Ricky repeated his favorite word with great emphasis.

"Daddy's busy, sweetheart…" The words pained her as she said them. Ricky was a wonderful father and a loving husband, but there were times that he was so career driven that he didn't see them. She had learned to live with it when it was just her, but she didn't want their baby to feel that he didn't have time for him. At least for now, it didn't seem to bother the little boy, who lit up like a firefly whenever Ricky was around and asked for him constantly when he wasn't.

When the baby was dressed and wrapped in a jacket, she walked with him back out to the living room. Ricky hadn't moved and was still scribbling away on his sheet music. Lucy frowned again. He'd been in this way for two weeks already; usually, he was in this state for a day or two before relaxing and coming back around.

She stood behind the couch, looking at the back of Ricky's head. "We're going to the park. Are you sure you won't come?" She paused, waiting for him to respond, even if it was just to say 'no.' When he didn't, she narrowed her eyes, becoming upset. "Ricky, did you hear me?"

"Da!" Little Ricky called out spontaneously. When Ricky didn't respond even to the sound of his son's voice, Lucy walked around to face him, the baby still in her arms. "Ricky!"

Ricky looked up as though he were hearing her for the first time. "Lucy, do you see that I'm busy?"

She was taken aback. "I'm taking the baby to the park," she said quietly. "Are you sure you won't come?"

Ricky looked back down at his music, frustrated. "Good, take the baby to the park."

Lucy walked out of the apartment, feeling deeply wounded by his lack of interest in either of them. If she hadn't been carrying the baby, she'd have slammed the door, but she didn't want to startle the little one.

Left in the silence of the empty apartment, Ricky looked up from his music slowly, feeling as though he were coming out of a fog. He began to wonder what he was thinking about. He had been so consumed with this record, a very important one because there were several scouts eyeing him for the movies and for Broadway. But he had already written five pieces and Lucy was right, there were tons of others that had never been heard outside his own imagination. He wanted to be successful; it had been one of his driving forces since before he came to New York. He wanted everything he touched to turn to gold. Speaking of gold, he wanted to cover his wife in all that her ears and neck and fingers could hold. He never wanted her to be cleaning other peoples' houses. He wanted his son to be proud of his father's name, not cleaning bird cages because his father left him penniless. The problem with this, Ricky thought, was that even though he had all the success that his father lacked, he retained some of the cold, harsh ways that his father employed with his own wife and children.

Ricky rubbed his eyes tiredly, the way in which he'd snapped at his wife and little boy weighing heavily on him. He stood up slowly and grabbed his jacket.

II.

Lucy sat on a bench under a large oak tree, with her son toddling clumsily on the grass in front of her. She giggled when he pointed at a pigeon that was eyeing him carefully from several feet away. "That's a pigeon, darling. A pigeon!"

The little boy went to his knees and began to crawl quickly toward it, only to be stunned into stillness when it took off flying in a flash of feathers. Laughing, Lucy walked over to him and picked him up from the grass. "You can't catch a pigeon, my darling!"

Little Ricky looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Da!"

Lucy's smile faded as she looked at another large group of pigeons nearby. "Daddy's not here, Ricky. But look, there's a lot of pigeons over there."

Little Ricky stretched his arms out. "DA!"

She turned, puzzled, to see her husband behind her. "Ricky," she said softly as he took the baby from her arms.

The baby laughed as Ricky embraced him. "Daddy's here," Ricky responded.

Lucy smiled gently to see her son happy. She turned and walked back to the bench, where she sat quietly.

Ricky followed her, holding little Ricky close to him. He sat beside her and looked at her silently for a moment before she spoke. "Taking a break?"

He lowered the baby to the grass, holding his hands while he balanced to stand. "You were right, I have plenty of music I can record."

Lucy nodded. "That's good…until the next album comes around and you ignore us for as long as it takes you to finish it. Or maybe it'll be a tour or a new show…"

Ricky looked at his son warmly as he sat on the grass, pointing up at some sparrows flying over their heads. "Honey, I know you're mad and I dun't blame you. I work so hard because I want you and Ricky to have everythin' you deserve." He looked at her as she looked up into the sky herself.

Lucy looked at him. "You DO give us everything, Ricky. You are a success, we have everything we need. My goodness, I know you need to work and I know your music is important to you, but…"

Little Ricky was babbling to himself, pulling on the legs of Ricky's pants to help him stand. "It's not more important to me than you and little Ricky. But I know I make it look that way and I'm sorry." They watched the boy fall again to his knees and crawl in front of them. Ricky reached over quietly and took his wife's hand into his.

III.

Over the next few days, Ricky relaxed considerably. He still had his rehearsals and performances and there were still moments where he'd need to rush to one of them. But his time spent at home was not filled with work. He had dedicated that time to little Ricky, playing with him, reading to him and singing to him. In the mornings, when Ricky would sleep late, Lucy was barely able to dress and feed the boy before he would crawl quickly away from her and into the bedroom. He would pull himself to his feet using the blankets that hung over the side of the bed and call out of his father until he rolled over sleepily and looked over the side of the bed at him.

Lucy was glad to see them together. It was clear that little Ricky adored the ground that his father walked on and tried to mimic his every movement. When Ricky did leave, the baby played happily with her, but the day was peppered with requests for 'Da' and occasional glances toward the door.

When the time came for Ricky to go away to record his album, he emerged from the bedroom early in the morning, a small suitcase in hand. Little Ricky wasn't used to seeing him out of bed so early, so he squealed happily when he walked into the kitchen during breakfast. Lucy smiled as Ricky leaned over and kissed the boy on the top of the head. "Do you want me to make you something before you go?"

Ricky shook his head, quickly drinking from the glass of juice that sat on the table. "No, I'm not hungry this early. Besides, I have to be at the airport soon."

Lucy wiped the baby's mouth with a small napkin. "How long will you be gone?"

"Three days. I'll be back Friday."

Lucy nodded. "We'll miss you."

Ricky smiled and grazed her cheek with his thumb. "I'll miss you, too."

IV.

Lucy was carrying the baby into the bedroom the next night, preparing him to go to sleep, when the phone rang. She paused with little Ricky in her arms and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey!" Ricky's voice was bright, but Lucy could tell that he was feeling homesick.

"Ricky! I'm so glad you called. How are you?"

"Fine. But I dun't like Chicago, I can't wait 'til this record is finished," he sighed. "How are you and little Ricky?"

Lucy giggled. "Hang on, I'll let you ask him…" She put the phone to little Ricky's ear. "Talk to Daddy, honey."

Ricky smiled. "Hi, Ricky!"

Lucy watched the baby's face brighten. "Da!"

Ricky's heart warmed to know that his son recognized his voice. "Are you takin' care of Mommy? I miss you. I'll be home soon."

The baby babbled back to him and Lucy put the phone back to her ear after a moment. "I miss you, darling."

Ricky's fingers touched the dial on the phone gently, as though she'd be able to feel them against her skin in the distance. "I miss you, too. And I love you. I'll see you Friday, ok?"

Lucy leaned her head against the receiver as though she were resting it on her husband's shoulder. "Ok. I love you, too."

V.

When Ricky walked in the door early Friday afternoon, Lucy was sitting on the floor with little Ricky as he tried to manipulate some blocks in front of him. The baby turned quickly when he heard the door. When he saw Ricky, he stood shakily to his feet and clung to the edge of the couch, eyes wide. "Da! Da!"

Ricky laughed and scooped him up into his arms. "Daddy's here! How's my big boy?"

Lucy smiled as she stood up and kissed him. "How was your trip?"

"It was good. It's a good record."

"You don't have to work tonight, do you?"

Ricky grinned. "Not tonight. Tomorrow, yes."

Lucy brightened. "Oh, good."

Little Ricky rested his head against Ricky's shoulder, starting to go limp as the hour of his naptime approached. Ricky left a kiss on his forehead. "I'll put him down."

Lucy nodded, following him through the bedroom.

Ricky walked into the baby's little room and sat in a rocking chair in the corner. He sang quietly, rocking with the baby gently until he was sure he had fallen asleep. He tiptoed to the crib and lowered the baby into it slowly and gently. He stood for a moment, watching the baby breathe, before walking out gingerly, closing the door behind him.

He went back to their bedroom, pulling at the tie around his neck. "Lucy, I…"

He stopped and drew in a breath. She sat at the vanity, brushing her red hair, and he noticed for the first time the sweet little pink shirt that she wore over the leggings that hugged the form of her hips. Lucy looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "What?"

Ricky approached her and kneeled beside her. "I dun't wanna turn around one day and find out that I've lost you."

Lucy lowered the brush slowly to rest on the tabletop. "What are you talking about?"

He rested a hand on her lap and stared at her. "I dunno, it just hit me all of a sudden that I'm neglectin' you."

Lucy looked down at Ricky's hand as it lay against her thigh. "It would be nice to have a little more attention sometimes…"

Ricky stood up and pulled her up with him. His arms circled her waist and his lips met hers fervently. He smiled when his kiss broke away from her gently. "How was that?"

Lucy smirked. "It's a start."

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. He pulled her closer and kissed the skin around her ear. "How much time do we have?"

She glanced in the direction of little Ricky's room. "Hopefully, an hour," she laughed.

"I'll take it," he whispered. He lowered her clumsily to the nearby bed as she pulled open the buttons of his shirt. Ricky laughed as his hands found the skin beneath her shirt, which he raised quickly over her head. His lips fell to the milky breasts beneath him as her fingers wound through his ebony hair.

They stopped moving suddenly when the soft sound of a short cry came from beyond the door. They waited a few seconds with breath held, waiting to see if another cry would pierce the silence. When it didn't, Ricky looked down at Lucy. "I always said that another man would never have you. But I'm eatin' my words now 'cuz that kid is tellin' me when I can make love to my own wife."

Lucy laughed quietly. "You're wasting time," she hissed.

A sly smile crossed his face as he helped her pull the snug leggings from around her thighs. "You're right, I've kept you waitin' too long already." He kicked off his own slacks and sighed into her neck as he felt the warmth of her thighs embracing him. His hands slipped around her breasts and alongside her hips as her fingers enclosed his growing shaft. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue caressing hers as his hands caressed her body.

Lucy released him from her grasp as he pushed ever closer to her and whispered to her between a flurry of gentle kisses. "Tu es la centra de mi mundo y la madre de mi nino precioso. No lo digo suficiente que te amo." He entered her slowly as she gasped with pleasure. His lips devoured the skin of her neck as though it were the soft flesh of a peach. Her hips moved with him as his long strokes continued into her and her fingers gripped his back as he worked to feed the hunger she'd felt for his affections.

She spoke his name desperately into his ear and he kissed her again as she trembled in her climax. He stiffened as he flooded into her, his hands cradling her face as his kiss softened. When he was spent, his lips again graced her ear. "I won't neglect you anymore. I love you…"


End file.
